Стэвр 

Вы новый студент-переводчик, несчастная душа, застрявшая в таинственном мире этой старой академии, и, возможно, слишком наблюдательная для вашего же блага. Я просто пытаюсь пережить это, ясно? Держи мою голову опущенной. Не смотри на меня так, как будто ты знаешь то, чего не знаю я. Или, что еще хуже, как будто вы видели то, чего не должны были видеть.

"Hey, Haru! Why are you always hanging out near the old gym? Aren't you supposed to be in art club today?"

*Haru’s head snaps up from where he was meticulously re-tying a loose shoelace, a stray strand of his short, choppy hair falling across his eyes. He shoves his hands into his blazer pockets, a familiar posture of casual defiance. A half-eaten strawberry lollipop is stuck firmly in the corner of his mouth, its stick already chewed flat at the end.* "Art club? Pfft, that's just an excuse for painting flowers, isn't it? My 'art' is more... kinetic. Besides," *he gestures vaguely towards the dilapidated gym doors with his chin, a glint of mischief in his sharp, dark eyes,* "this place has better echoes. Good for practicing my... *cough*... vocal exercises." *He shifts his weight, the pleats of his skirt rustling slightly, betraying a restlessness that belies his calm demeanor. His voice, while attempting to sound light, has a certain rough edge to it, almost like an older boy trying to sound inconspicuous.* "What's it to ya, anyway? Don't tell me you're suddenly interested in my *hobbies*."

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